by Casey, Jane
‘He did make threats against you, though.’
‘The usual kind.’ Seeing that that wasn’t enough, Kennford drawled, ‘He promised me exposure, disgrace, ruin, a visitation from the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and the seven plagues of Egypt. You name it.’
‘Did he carry out any of his threats at the time?’
‘No. Or if he did, I wasn’t aware of them.’
‘Is that everyone you can think of?’
Kennford nodded.
‘We’ve been concentrating on people who don’t like you, but is there anyone that you consider to be an enemy?
‘I don’t have a quarrel with anyone. There are those who have a problem with me, but I have better things to think about than wrongs that were done to me.’
I couldn’t help butting in. ‘You said your ex-wife took your entire income.’
‘So she does. That was the decision of the courts when we divorced. I couldn’t really argue too much since she’d been with me through law school and my first few years at the Bar, and I’d been playing away with a very wealthy woman. Vita,’ he added for clarity. ‘She wasn’t in good health and the judge thought she needed the money more than I did.’
‘Are you on good terms with your first wife?’
‘Of course not,’ Kennford snapped. ‘There’s a reason we divorced.’
‘I thought you split up because you were being unfaithful to her,’ I said blandly.
‘We split up because she hadn’t the sense to turn a blind eye.’
Unlike Vita. We all thought it; no one actually said it.
‘When was the last time you spoke to her?’
He rubbed his eyes. ‘Last year. I pay her once a quarter rather than monthly because my earnings aren’t consistent month to month – I get paid for cases I did years ago, sometimes. I was late with her money and she rang up to know where it was. It was a short conversation.’
‘Pleasant?’ I asked, deadpan.
Kennford laughed. ‘I like your sense of humour.’
Appreciating women came naturally to him – he could no more help flirting with me than he could stop himself from breathing. For a moment I felt myself being drawn in by his charm in spite of myself, but then the words ‘bimbo sidekick’ popped into my mind.
‘And what’s your ex-wife’s name?’
‘Miranda Wentworth. She went back to her maiden name when we got divorced.’ A grin. ‘Actually, my name was the one thing she didn’t keep.’
Attuned to other people’s reactions to him, he must have noticed the lack of a response because he switched his focus to Godley.
‘Look, I appreciate the in-depth focus on me and I don’t mind answering your questions, but I can’t see this getting us anywhere. Miranda’s not a killer. She’s extremely bitter about how our marriage ended but she wouldn’t take it out on the girls, and I don’t know why she would have waited twenty years to attack Vita. As far as I know, she’s not in the best of health, so she wouldn’t have been able to attack them, and she certainly wouldn’t have had the height to hit me over the head or the strength to push me into the mirror.’
‘That does seem impossible,’ Derwent agreed.
Kennford was on to him straightaway. ‘Back to thinking I did it myself?’
‘It’s always a possibility until we’re sure you didn’t.’
‘And with that in mind, I’m going to need to take your mobile phone,’ Godley said.
‘My God, so you really are including me on the list of suspects.’ Kennford gave a strained laugh. ‘You just base your investigation on probabilities, don’t you? There’s a certain inevitability to it. If it’s a domestic murder, of course the husband must have done it, regardless of who he is or how he acts. But I suppose you can’t understand what I’m doing here today, instead of sitting in a dark room drinking cheap whisky and letting my beard grow, or whatever it is you think I should be doing.’
‘We don’t expect everyone to react the same way to a death in the family,’ Godley said calmly. ‘You aren’t a suspect because we think you aren’t upset enough.’
‘Why, then?’ Kennford’s jaw was tight with anger.
‘You are a suspect because you don’t seem interested in helping us to find the people who murdered your wife and daughter. Over the course of two interviews, you have told us as little as possible about your life. Your clerk gave us more information in a brief conversation than you have so far.’ Godley began to lay out the facts, showing him the cards we were holding. I watched Kennford, curious to see if it was a winning hand. ‘You are a suspect because you have a weak alibi and a possible motive for wanting your wife dead because your marriage was on shaky ground. You were in the house. You had the opportunity to kill her, and the means to dispose of the murder weapon before staging your own attack. Laura wasn’t supposed to be there so we can discount the fact that you don’t have a motive for her death.’
‘I would tear that to shreds if we were in court. All you have are suppositions and implications. Where’s the evidence?’
‘That will come – if our suppositions and implications are right.’ Godley shrugged. ‘If they’re not, you don’t have anything to worry about because there won’t be any evidence for us to find. Either way, I need your phone.’
Kennford took out a battered iPhone and weighed it in his hand. ‘This is my lifeline, you know. I’ve got to be able to keep in touch with the clerks and my solicitors. I haven’t had to queue up to use a public phone at court since I was a pupil. And I need to check my email.’
‘No BlackBerry?’
‘I do it all on this. I have enough to manage without having a million and one gadgets to carry around.’
‘What about a personal mobile phone?’ Derwent asked.
‘For the legions of women who send me messages? So I can keep that line of communication secret?’
‘You said it.’
Kennford shook his head. ‘I couldn’t be bothered.’
‘Didn’t you care if your wife found out about your girlfriends?’ I couldn’t help asking.
Instead of being offended, he favoured me with a sheepish grin. ‘Rumours of my philandering exaggerate the truth. I’m not going to try to mislead you. There have been other women, but not anything like as many as people suggest. It’s something that happens, and it’s not a big deal.’
Derwent whistled the first line of ‘I’m Just a Girl Who Can’t Say No’. Kennford ignored it.
‘If Vita found out about any of them, she didn’t discuss it with me. She knew that our marriage wasn’t under threat. I wouldn’t have left her for anyone, and I always made that clear to the women I slept with.’
‘Very laudable,’ I said sarcastically.
‘I can understand that you need your phone. We’ll do our best to get it back to you quickly.’ Godley waited until Kennford put the phone down on the coffee table, then leaned over and switched it off. ‘As you can see, that’s turned off. It won’t be on again until it’s being technically examined.’
‘So you can’t fit me up by writing your own messages. I know the drill.’ Kennford stood up and began to pace the room. ‘What about the possibility that this was a burglary attempt that went very badly wrong? Have you considered that?’
‘It just doesn’t seem to fit with the facts,’ Derwent drawled.
‘Yes, it does,’ Kennford insisted. ‘The offenders got into the house, confronted Vita and Laura, tried to bully Vita into telling them where the safe was, not that we have one, and inadvertently killed Laura. Then they panicked and killed Vita to hide what they’d done. I know criminals and most of them aren’t that bright. They’re like foxes in a henhouse when their plans go wrong.’
Derwent shook his head. ‘We were at the post-mortems this morning, mate, and there was nothing accidental about your daughter’s injuries. The damage to her neck wasn’t a shaving cut.’
The colour had gone from Kennford’s face. ‘Already? They did them already?’
‘The quicker we have information from the pathologist about how a victim died, the better it is for the investigation,’ Godley explained.
‘I suppose it is.’ He still sounded stunned. ‘My poor little Laura.’
‘What about your poor little Lydia?’ I sounded sharp, but I couldn’t help it. ‘I spent the morning with her.’
‘How enthralling for you.’
‘It had its moments. Would you like to know where Lydia is now?’
‘In Twickenham?’
‘In hospital.’
That got his attention. ‘Why? What happened?’
‘She collapsed. She had an untreated injury that caused significant blood loss.’
‘An injury? From last night?’
‘No. Not from then. From this morning.’ I hesitated, not sure if it was better to approach the subject delicately or straight out. The direct approach seemed easiest. ‘It seems it was self-inflicted. Did you know she self-harmed?’
He sat down in his chair again and leaned his head against the back of it, his eyes closed. In irritation, it transpired. ‘Oh, fucking spare me. She had to find some way of getting attention, didn’t she?’
‘Mr Kennford, Lydia’s arms were covered in scars. I saw them. The injury that caused her to faint was particularly deep, but it was far from the first. The doctor she saw in A and E told me she had probably been cutting herself for years. Have you ever had her referred for psychiatric assessment?’
‘We didn’t need that to know she’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but she’s had plenty of attention over the years.’
‘While we were waiting for the ambulance to come Mrs Fairfax told me Lydia was diagnosed with an eating disorder a few years ago.’
‘Diagnosed, treated at vast expense, released. Not cured, you’ll notice. It was described as being under control. That’s if you believe she had a real problem.’
‘I take it you didn’t think that.’
Kennford looked bored. ‘She needed to lose weight. She went on a diet, which was effective. Her mother panicked and took her to a specialist who was more than happy to diagnose her with anorexia nervosa. Vita was secretly delighted, of course. At her tennis club it’s a fashionable ailment for a child to have.’
‘It’s a life-threatening disorder,’ I said hotly. ‘And the cut on Lydia’s arm––’
‘I’m afraid I’m not interested. She did it to herself, so it merits neither sympathy nor attention.’
‘Don’t you think she’s been looking for your approval?’ I couldn’t believe how unmoved he was, how unsympathetic.
‘She’s been looking in all the wrong places, if that’s the case.’
‘Laura was your favourite, wasn’t she?’ Derwent’s voice was harsh. He was staring out of the window again and didn’t bother to turn around. ‘Did Vita feel the same way?’
‘Laura was a more attractive and rewarding child. We both felt that way. Vita was probably better at hiding her feelings from the girls. I didn’t see the point in pretending.’
‘Maybe if you had seen the point in it, she wouldn’t be lying in hospital right now.’ I shook my head. ‘You really are a cold person, aren’t you? A normal father would have dropped everything to go and be with his child when she needed him.’
‘Does she need me? She’s got doctors and nurses to look after her physically. Mentally too, I suppose. God, if she ends up in another loony bin she’s going to have trouble when it comes to university applications. She can forget medicine as a career. She’ll fail the psychological profile in a half second.’
‘What about her emotional needs? What about the fact that you’re all she has left of a family?’
‘Lydia learned a long time ago that Daddy was a busy person who wasn’t always available for sports days and school plays. She came to terms with it, as did Laura. Vita was always there for both of them. Just because Vita’s gone, I can’t change the way I live my life.’ He turned to Godley. ‘You have all of these pathetic reasons why I would have wanted Vita dead. You haven’t thought about why I needed her to be around. I would never have killed my wife – she was too bloody useful. And if that shocks you, Miss Prim––’ he turned back to me, ‘– you’re not going to like this. When I met Vita, I wasn’t even attracted to her. She was overweight, she had bad skin and her eyesight was terrible. I did like her money, and the fact that she worshipped me.’ He said it in a completely matter-of-fact way, as if it was entirely reasonable. ‘I didn’t know why she was so keen on me. Then she got pregnant with the twins and I realised what she’d been after all along. What could I do but go along with it? The babies were going to need a father.’ And you could get your hands on all the lovely money at the same time, I filled in silently. ‘Vita really put in the effort. She knew she had to sort out her appearance, so she lost weight and got her eyes and skin lasered. She also knew I wasn’t going to be the most hands-on dad in the world. She saw where Miranda had gone wrong and she wasn’t going to make the same mistakes, so she devoted herself to making my life easier and keeping the twins happy. She never asked me for anything. She strove to be the perfect wife, and as far as I was concerned, she succeeded.’
‘This is very moving stuff,’ Derwent commented. ‘But you’re not getting paid by the hour here.’
‘I’m getting to the point. I had nothing to gain from Vita dying. The only thing I’ve got out of it is a headache. I can’t leave Lydia with her aunt indefinitely, more’s the pity, and she’s clearly not able to look after herself. So now I need to find someone to keep an eye on her or I won’t be able to do my job. Really, at her age, she should be able to be more independent.’
‘Laura was independent, wasn’t she?’ Derwent said softly. ‘That’s how she was able to have a boyfriend.’
‘Neither of the girls had boyfriends.’
‘That’s what Lydia told me,’ I said. ‘But Laura did.’
‘She wasn’t a virgin, Mr Kennford. In fact, she was a very experienced young lady, based on the pictures we found of her. Up to all sorts of things.’ Derwent was enjoying this.
The colour had gone from Kennford’s face again, but this time it was anger, not shock that had bleached his skin.
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘Sex. All kinds of sex. All kinds of positions. It was an education for me, looking through the pictures, let me tell you. I think I could probably qualify as a gynaecologist now.’ Derwent settled himself against the window ledge. ‘Amazing to think she had done so much when she was only fifteen.’
‘I’ll kill you.’ I don’t think Kennford was aware of what he’d said. His hands were bunched into fists, shaking slightly as the adrenalin coursed through him.
‘I’m just telling you what you didn’t notice. Any idea who the boyfriend was? Or boyfriends, I suppose. Just because we only have pictures of one doesn’t mean that there weren’t a few. Taking after your good self, perhaps.’ Derwent laughed. ‘We used to call them “ceiling inspectors” when I was in school. You know, flat on their backs most of the time, staring up at the ceiling while they were getting pounded by someone or other. They probably just call them sluts now.’
‘Don’t talk about her that way.’ Kennford stepped towards Derwent, closing the distance between them.
‘It’s a touchy subject,’ Derwent agreed. ‘Hard to think about your own child like that. Especially if you’d fooled yourself that she was innocent.’
‘Josh.’ Godley spoke quietly, without the edge that would have called Derwent off. It was his way of staying on Kennford’s side while letting his DI do the dirty work. Which, as it happened, Derwent was more than happy to do.
‘Must be a bit of a shock. But, according to you, sex isn’t a big deal, is it? It’s just something that happens.’ He waited a second. It’s all in the timing, Maeve. ‘Happened to her a lot, evidently.’
Kennford lunged, aiming a punch at Derwent’s face. He sidestepped it and caught Kennford’s fist as it shot past him, using
the momentum to twist him around and pushing his hand up between his shoulder blades. I squeaked and jumped out of their path as they reeled around the room. The last time I’d got caught up in one of Derwent’s little scraps, I’d ended up needing to go to hospital. It wasn’t something I was keen to repeat. Derwent rammed Kennford against the wall, leaning in close to speak into his ear.
‘Watch the window, mate. I don’t want to fall out, do you?’
Kennford responded with a string of expletives that were barely comprehensible. ‘Bastard’ was a word that recurred.
Derwent kept him pressed up against the wall. ‘Calm down. I don’t want to arrest you for assault on a police officer, but I will.’
‘You wouldn’t get it to court,’ Kennford choked out, kicking back.
‘You reckon?’ Derwent gave him a shake, like a terrier with a rat. ‘You need to get your priorities straight, Mr Kennford. You keep giving us just enough, or what you think is just enough. You haven’t been honest with us. Maybe you don’t remember what that’s like. Let me explain. Whatever you’re trying to hide, we will find out what it is. We’re only interested in catching the person who did this to your family, but it makes me very curious indeed that you don’t seem to feel the same way.’ Another shake. ‘Don’t underestimate us just because you’ve spent your career tying coppers in knots. Don’t think we’re idiots. And don’t think you’re going to get away with lying to me because I will not stop until I find out what it is you’re lying about, and why, and you will regret it, Mr Kennford. You’ll wish you’d never started this, and it will be too late.’ He stepped back, taking some of the pressure off so Kennford could breathe. ‘Talk to us now and we’ll forget this ever happened.’
Kennford struggled free, turning round to face Derwent, his face flooded red from anger and embarrassment. The door to the room was open again, I realised, and fully occupied. In the foreground there were two young men who had to be junior clerks, and the receptionist. Behind them, in dark suits, there were more than a few barristers, male and female. All had the same expression on their faces: horror mixed with glee. A genuine fight involving a senior member of chambers: I was surprised no one had thought of selling tickets. Kennford glared at them, straightening his shirt where it had pulled to one side, then turned back to Derwent.